


how it's supposed to be

by dawnheart



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Field Trip, Getting Together, High School, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Party, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 22:21:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15917448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnheart/pseuds/dawnheart
Summary: Kise is always finding excuses to touch Yukio and it's such a mystery as to why!





	how it's supposed to be

Practice was over, and everyone trudged to the lockers—except Yukio. He usually stayed after practice to rerun drills since he felt that it was useful to spend at least some practice time coaching everyone else. He liked having this time for himself. He didn't have to be “on”—he could just be.

 

As the ball left his fingers and flew towards the basket, another ball headed directly towards his face, and luckily, he caught it on instinct. Glad for muscle-memory in that moment, but pissed that he had to use it, he looked around for the culprit. He loved basketball, but he didn’t need one imprinted in his skin.

 

“Senpai!!!”

 

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, steeling himself.  _ So much for “me” time. _ He watched Kise bound toward him like a golden retriever. A very beautiful golden retriever.  Sometimes, Kise’s voice could be melodic and charming, like a mermaid or something. This was not one of those times. Now, he sounded like a howler monkey or an annoying bird.  

 

“Your hands are so small!”

 

“What the fuck—” He flung the basketball back at Kise, hoping to hit him in the face, but Kise caught it easily and carried it at his waist until he was in front of Yukio, then dropped it by their feet.   

 

“Let’s compare!”

 

The only thing Yukio could see were Kise’s eyes, glimmering like chocolate diamonds in the yellow gym light. He clasped Yukio’s hands in both of his, like Romeo and Juliet did in Act 1 Scene 5.

 

“So small and cute!” Kise gushed.

 

“What are you doing?” Yukio ripped his hands away, and taking a few steps back. The luster of Kise’s smile was blinding at this proximity.

 

“You are so adorable, Senpai!”

 

“Shut up!” 

 

His scream echoed in the gym. Yukio inwardly winced. He knew that was the wrong response, as he watched his response fan the flames in Kise’s glittering, playful eyes. Then, a shuffling noise caught his attention.

 

The scrambling of probably five or six teammates would have been comical in another setting. It wasn’t as if he didn’t love his team. He did. They were all his sons and brothers. But this was too much. He stomped to the locker room entrance, assuming full Intimidating Captain mode.

 

“He’s coming!” someone yelled. This should have been obvious and Yukio wished he could have found humor in the situation.  

 

But no.

 

“What is going on?” Yukio demanded. 

 

Everyone was frozen and silent for a few moments.

 

“Taking notes,” Moriyama finally spoke up, infuriatingly calm. 

 

“Maybe you should try that in class next time!” He glared pointedly.  “I hear history tests are being handed back tomorrow.” 

 

“Ouch!!” Hayakawa screamed.

 

“Oi, there’s no reason to play dirty,” Kobori said with a wobbly smile.

 

Moriyama sniffed. “We were just admiring the Kaijo power couple.”

 

_ Oh my god.  _

 

“That is so true,” Kise sang-yelled in his ear, appearing right behind him. He threw his arms around Yukio’s neck, almost pushing him over.

 

“Oh, my god, Kise! You are the reason why gay is an insult!” Yukio cried, shoving Kise away.

 

Yukio’s words echoed between his players like a pinball. He felt guilty and was about to open his mouth to retract his statement—was that too mean?  He was mean, though, especially to Kise, and Kise never seemed to care. He seemed to like it, which was probably weirder than him being mean, and even if Kise was annoying, he shouldn’t insult the rest of the gay population because Kise was so—

 

“Senpai,” Kise whined, covered his face and cowering. Then he looked up at Yukio, still bent over, fawn-colored eyes wide, almost tearing up. You could tell he was a model, ready to get into acting. Yukio was proud and secretly in awe of his teammate’s accomplishments or anything. But in this moment, freaking annoyed at all of Kise’s habits—squealing, exaggerating, crying, hugging everyone, flipping his hair, being so beautiful that girls always follow him around and ruin their practice, drawing all other eyes to himself anytime he entered a room, like an attention-vacuum—annoyed at all of it.  

 

“We’re done here. Kise, go pick up that ball you threw at me,” Yukio said, voice quiet and steely. “The rest of you,  scram!”

 

Everyone indeed scrambled in different directions. Hayakawa and Nakamura bumped into each other in their haste to follow their captain’s orders. For once. If only it could always be like this.

 

In the empty gym, Yukio took a deep breath.  Then he noticed Kise dawdling, poking around the ball cart. Kise looked up and they stared at each other. A sudden wave of tiredness crashed over Yukio and he was not in the mood to deal with anything. He tried to ignore Kise’s gaze on him to the locker room doors, which he flung open so hard, he faintly worried about the hinges. He changed mechanically, feeling gross and sticky in his street clothes. When he walked into the gym, and saw it empty—for real this time—he chose not to analyze the initial flash of disappointment he felt.  As he biked home, ate dinner, finished his homework, and laid down to sleep at night, he felt Kise’s tawny gaze on his back, boring into him, somehow strange and new, and something he couldn’t shake.

  
  


****

  
  


Kise’s fangirls were insufferable. They were a constant in Kise’s life, and thus by proxy in the team’s lives. If Kise wasn’t so nice to them some of them would probably leave, eventually. But he loved it. He encouraged it! So, there they were—class, lunch, practice. He sat down at a table with the other third years and tried not to focus on his lunch and keep the side-eying fangirls to a minimum. He frowned into his rice and soup, unable to keep up with his friends’ lunchtime conversation today. 

 

Yukio knew that some people thought he was jealous of Kise (he wasn’t). He couldn’t really blame them, though, because what kind of guy— especially one who couldn't talk to girls without stuttering (him, for example)—wouldn't be jealous of a guy like Kise who was constantly overflowing with charisma, like the ocean lapping at the shore? Yukio was more like the Sahara Desert in that respect... 

 

But he wasn’t jealous of Kise. Maybe if he felt something for any one of those girls...but no. He didn’t really have an opportunity to get to know any of them so he had no opinions either way. Just that in the context of being Kise’s fangirls... they were insufferable. 

 

He knew he was torturing himself like this—though he thought masochism was Midorima’s thing—but before class started, he watched the sickening high school TV drama scene unfold before him. 

 

While Kise entertained the group of girls (literally entertained, he was an aspiring actor after all), some of them exchanged long, excited looks, perhaps thinking that no one else could see them (but anyone with eyes could see them.) They kept asking to touch Kise’s hair or hands or biceps or neck—and maybe that was what spurred the most hot anger in Yukio’s belly. They were at school. This was no place for the blatant thirst that they were all exhibiting. What were they hoping for?

 

He took a controlled breath. Nothing would come from the endless circles of trying to question Kise’s fangirls’ motives. Why should he care what Kise did with other people? Especially fangirls. There was no good reason. It was none of his business. 

 

At some point, Kise and his girls migrated to his table, and suddenly it wasn’t just him and his third year guy friends, and there was much more commotion.  The girls plunked themselves in the middle of their table because Kise had done so, sitting right next to Yukio. There was no reason for his friends to be flirting with Kise’s fangirls—as if they would have a chance competing against Kise. Although if they were fine with someone who was obviously wholeheartedly obsessed with someone else ... maybe the boys in his year were stupid.

 

“What do you think?” one of the girls asked him. 

 

He didn’t think anything because he hadn’t been paying attention to anything around him beyond the rise in commotion. Yukio opened his mouth for barely a second when all the girls started giggling around him. He closed his mouth and tried not to let any color rise to his cheeks. He tried not to glare at any of them specifically. It was their fault, but they couldn’t help being what they are. 

 

One thing came into focus that pulled him through the bog of the lunchroom din: Kise’s profile, the fall of his bangs over his forehead, but not covering his eyes, framed by long golden lashes which were mesmerizing to watch flutter every time Kise blinked; his slightly upturned nose; the shape of his lips, and how they moved when he talked; the flash of his perfect teeth, and—

 

Kise leaned in, his blindingly gorgeous face floating closer; Yukio studied his features up close, eyes dropping down to his lips. Bright and quick, like driving past a road sign on the highway, he thought about what it would feel like to kiss them. Just as quick, panic set in afterward, as he remembered that he was not okay with having these thoughts in front of an audience, especially Kise’s fangirls. 

 

He felt fingers comb through his hair, and he wished there was a way to subtly lean into the touch. Kise looked at him as he ran his hand through again, and again. His tawny eyes added an intensity to his stare that was usually too much for the situation. The rest of his face sometimes offset the ferocity/fierceness, but nothing about Kise was soft. His gaze, his laugh, all were sharp in a way that was unsettling. But Yukio felt drawn to the edge, to the unbridled, simmering energy. He thrived in the imbalance. He found comfort in Kise’s aura, threatening and bright. He didn’t know for sure if he did it on purpose, but he probably did. Everything with Kise was calculated, if you looked carefully past the air-headedness he insisted on posing with all the time. But Kise knew. And if Kise knew—Yukio felt a jolt. 

 

Kise took his hand away and reality set in. Yukio reared back. 

 

“What the heck?” He glared at Kise.

 

Kise shrugged. “You had something in your hair.” His posture was easy but his  _ eyes _ . They always said something else. 

 

People began packing their lunches, stretching, and heading back to class. Some of Yukio’s friends hung around lazily. Yukio stood up, meaning to leave the table without farewell. 

 

“Bye, Senpai,” Kise called sweetly.

 

The hair on the back of Yukio’s neck prickled. “Bye.” He didn’t look back.

 

The post-lunch rush to class was chaos, and everyone disappeared into the mix of Kise’s cloud of girls, Yukio’s friends, and the rest of the students. But Kise was like a beacon, a lighthouse, and Yukio couldn’t help but feel something settle in him, something comforting him, when he was in his presence. The only problem was lighthouses didn’t notice the boats they led—they shed equal light for all. 

 

Yukio wouldn’t have cared much—his speciality was maths, after all, so he didn't care much for overly elaborate metaphors. He didn’t care about being in the spotlight. That was Kise’s job. He never needed to be the center of attention, or the one everyone looked to. He developed into that role slightly when he became captain but...he didn’t just want to be Kise’s captain.

 

So when he thought that he ended up flying under Kise’s radar? It made him feel a kind of resignation he never wanted to feel.

  
  


***

  
  


Had it not been for the calendar notification he got on his phone, he would have forgotten about the class trip. He was late but the bus waited for him anyway. His teachers glared at him and he bowed and apologized profusely for inconveniencing everyone. Moriyama looked at him knowingly, which,  _ what?  _ There was nothing to know. He glared. He looked for a seat, trying not to appear frantic, though he was a little thrown off at being late. He needed to remember to put an alarm for the previous night as well as that morning. A reminder that morning wasn’t helpful if he wasn’t prepared.  

 

Kise saved him a seat and Yukio sat down gratefully.

 

“Slept in?” Kise asked.

 

“No,” Yukio said. 

 

“I’m excited,” Kise said. 

 

“I hope it’s good.”

 

They sat in silence for the majority of the way. Yukio was a little shocked but he was grateful.  He liked the window seat so he had stuff to look at but he got nauseous from travel sometimes. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. He felt Kise’s shoulder against his the whole way. He felt something on his shoulder and he cracked an eye open to see the top of Kise’s head. Something lodged in his throat and chest and he didn’t dare move. He knew he should be worried about the whole bus watching them. He should fling Kise off his shoulder and yell at him.

 

But he couldn’t.

 

Kise was so peaceful when he was asleep. He could have stayed like this forever, honestly.

 

But it was for the best that was not possible since his shoulder started cramping and when they arrived at the campsite, Kise, who had napped the whole way, was full of energy and extra touchy-feely.  He dragged Yukio out of his seat and pressed up against him, slapping his shoulders and pushing him forward.

 

“Wait!” Yukio snapped, holding tightly to the seat on either side of him so he wouldn’t bump into the students in front of him. “No one else is moving!” 

 

“Why?” Kise whined.

 

“Because we are getting instructions! Shut up!”

 

They were eventually let off the bus.  They put their stuff in their respective lodges and began their class activities.

 

He didn’t really get out into the wilderness on his own much, but now that he was here, he really liked it.  The air was so different here. The sounds were so different. It wasn’t quite silence. There was always rustling and birds chirping if you listened hard enough.  But it was just more open. 

 

If there was one thing that could make this better, it would be if he could come here alone. He wasn’t sure when he would find the time to come out by himself but he could always hope. 

 

They did all sorts of what Yukio assumed were the usual camping woodsy activities—nature hike, archery, plant identification, canoeing. 

 

Yukio carefully stepped onto the bank from the canoe and when he turned around one of the girls had extended her hand expectantly. Yukio took it dutifully and helped her off the boat. Somehow he had become stationed as some kind of handrail to help people get off the canoes.  

The other boys looked at him jealously, but if they wanted to take his place, they should. 

 

Kise’s canoe arrived. Kise looked up at him expectantly and Yukio purposefully avoided his gaze. Kise was the last to leave the boat. Once Yukio helped the last person, he turned. 

 

“What about me, Senpai?”

 

Yukio froze. “What about you,” Yukio scowled over his shoulder. 

 

“I need help too!”

 

Yukio stood there staring at him for a second. Kise held up his hand daintily, a tinge of smirk darkening his face. Almost without thinking, Yukio extended his hand and Kise clasped it like an alligator snapping shut on its prey. But his hand was so soft and Yukio hated the jolt of electricity that shot up his arm at the touch. 

 

“Thank you, Senpai,” Kise purred.

 

Yukio hated the redness that rushed to his face. Kise’s touch ghosted across his palm for the rest of the day.

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Regular team movie night sort of creeped up on him. They definitely surprised him. It wasn’t really his style. He didn’t think the team should need all these extra special events to be bonded together—wasn’t the thrill of playing basketball, and all the blood and sweat that went into it, enough? Though he had to admit, movie night was much easier to put together a team camping trip. And everyone seemed to really enjoy it, so, who was he to deny them of their fun? He wasn’t a dictator, no matter what anyone (Moriyama) said. And Nakamura’s family was nice enough to let them all into their house for the movie. He didn't trust anyone else’s movie suggestions—Moriyama would choose some dramatic romance, Kobori would choose a Pixar movie, Hayakawa would choose anime, and Kise might just present slideshows of his own modeling photos—so he took it upon himself to choose a mindlessly violent movie with lots of good explosions and cool cars. 

 

They all pitched in to bring snacks, allowing Hayakawa to stuff his face with sour straws and Kobori to carefully pick up popcorn one by one and place it in his mouth, looking a lot more scared of the movie than Yukio thought was called for. Moriyama’s head was down, his gaze glued to his phone, probably texting girls, and Yukio did not care enough to feel a flash of impatience. Maybe Moriyama shouldn’t come if the wasn’t interested in spending time with the team. But he would show Kobori a text every once in a while and Kobori would pat him on the shoulder reassuringly or give him a thumbs up and Yukio had to feel a pang of warmth for his team—especially Nakamura, who was the only one other than himself who was actually watching the  movie seriously. He felt a burst of warm fondness for Nakamura, and then his gaze snapped to Kise who appeared to be watching the movie but Yukio wasn’t sure if this was the type of movie Kise was interested in seeing. Although if he was branching out into acting maybe he would want to try this kind of film out eventually in his career. 

 

Kise got up. “Nakamura, where is the bathroom?” 

 

Nakamura pointed down the hall.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Yukio watched him pad away softly.

 

When he returned he sat on the couch right next to Yukio, their shoulders jostling and his whole side sliding down against Yukio as he landed on the couch. Yukio could not shift away as he was sitting right against the armrest. 

 

“Kise,” he muttered.

 

Kise pretended not to hear him.

 

They were nearing the climax of the movie which would take another thirty minutes to wind down and resolve. He felt Kise’s thigh fully against his and made no signs of moving.

 

Yukio was stuck.

 

It was what he hoped everyone would believe including Kise and no he could not pay attention to the movie. There wasn’t much to pay attention to anyway but every point of contact between him and Kise screaming for more attention than anything he had experienced. There were no fangirls. No one else was looking at them. Because they were with everyone, it wasn’t that intimate. It shouldn’t have been. But it still felt like their thing. Well. Yukio’s thing. Who knew what was going through Kise’s head at this. Probably nothing.  Probably thinking about his next shoot or what his fangirls wanted to see from him next.

 

Yukio wondered if he could press back imperceptibly against Kise. He had no right to be protective, or heaven forbid, jealous. He cast a stiff glance towards Kise. The light from the TV screen danced across his cheeks and nose, and reflected in his eyes. He wished he could just look at Kise’s eyes unadultured, the pure chocolate diamonds he knew they were. 

 

Then Kise turned his chocolate diamond eyes toward him and panic kicked him in the hest. He looked away quickly, staring at the movie but having no idea what was going on. He glanced back just in case and Kise was no longer looking at him. He didn’t know why he felt that he had escaped a disaster. He also didn’t know if he had actually escaped.

 

When the movie was over, they were slow to turn on the lights, still in a daze, Yukio for reasons probably unlike everyone else’s. 

 

“That movie was boring,” Moriyama yawned. 

 

Yukio was about to bite back a retort when Kise dragged his hand up his leg and he froze. 

 

“Really?” Kise asked brightly. “I thought it was great.”

 

The details of the movie were fuzzy for Yukio. The most important details were not on the screen, but warm next to him.  

  
  
  


****

  
  
  
  


_ Play soccer with us _ , they said.  _ It will be fun _ , they said.  _ My foreign exchange student is leaving soon, we need to spend time with him.  We don’t know when he is going to visit again. _ And he played with them and got a twisted ankle, and a banged up knee. He was almost certain he pulled a hammie too but he was ignoring that because the laundry list of injuries was already  too much, and all before a big tournament the coming weekend.

 

First of all, Yukio didn’t realize he was so gullible. He should have just said no. He was so used to saying no to everything. It wasn’t even his foreign exchange student. He wasn’t even friends with him. He had to admit, it was fun while it lasted. 

 

So, he staggered into homeroom like an old man who forgot his cane, feeling testy but hoping he didn’t look nearly as haggard.

 

No one commented on it until he got to lunch and Kise called out to him. His friends gathered at their normal table, and he followed suit. Kise bounded up to him.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“You are hurt.”

 

“Yeah, no thanks to these geniuses.” His friends did not have the decency to look sheepish or at all sorry. They looked boredly at their phones and lunches.

 

“I have painkillers if you want,” Kise said.

 

He took one look at his friends and felt a burst of uncharacteristic annoyance. “Yeah, sure.”

 

None of his friends said bye to him.

 

Jerks.

 

He took the painkillers from Kise and it helped but he knew nothing would solve this but time.  He wondered if he should even go to practice today. He showed up and coach took one look at him and told him to sit out. He was sullen and grouchy about it, even though he knew this would happen and this was kind of what he wanted. He sat against the wall and stretched while he watched his team carry on with practice.

 

Practice wrapped up and Yukio watched everyone clean up and head to the showers. He did change into his uniform but it was mostly for show since he hadn’t played a single minute. He didn’t think he needed to change since he wasn’t sweaty. He picked up his backpack which felt a lot heavier than it had two hours ago when practice started. He was not excited to bike home. How he had the nerve and determination to bike to school escaped him. 

 

“Senpai.”

 

Yukio got used to Kise hanging around after practice. To get his attention didn’t seem like the right reason. Kise had enough attention. He didn’t need it from Yukio. Yukio also was doubting the logic behind Kise actually liking to bother him but he didn’t have any other explanations.

 

“Kise.”

 

He didn’t say anything. Yukio walked towards the exit of the gym and Kise followed. They were about halfway across the gym, when Kise broke the silence.

 

“You’ve been walking funny.”

 

Yukio did not reply. 

 

“I-I mean.”

 

Kise stuttering had Yukio turning back to see what was the matter.

 

Kise recovered quickly but red blossomed on his cheeks and Yukio couldn’t help but notice how cute Kise looked, flushed like that. 

 

“I didn’t mean—are you okay?”

 

Yukio turned a cold, unimpressed look towards Kise. “Yes, are you okay?” he asked.

 

“You seem really...stiff.”

 

“Yeah, because I’m hurt.” 

 

“Let me help you!”

 

Yukio narrowed his eyes. “What?”

 

“I’ll help you stretch.”

 

Yukio pressed his lips together and turned forward. “I don’t need help.”

 

Kise ran in front of him and placed himself between Yukio and the doors. “Come on, Senpai!”

 

“No,” Yukio said, as Kise put his hands on Yukio’s shoulders and pushed him towards the mats stacked up on one side of the gym. 

 

“You are hurting me!” Yukio snapped, wrenching away from Kise and hopping on one foot.

 

“Sorry!” Kise whimpered. He drug a mat towards them.   

 

“Kise, it’s not necessary.”

 

“Get on the mat,” Kise said.

 

Yukio stared at the mat uneasily.

 

“If you really don’t want me to, I won’t.” Kise said.

 

Yukio didn’t look at Kise as he sat down on the mat.

 

“Lie on your back,” Kise said, and Yukio made the mistake of finding Kise’s gaze as he adjusted himself per his instructions. He stood above Yukio, amber eyes hypnotic, reminding Yukio of Kaa from the Jungle Book, feral and wild but gentle and careful.

 

Yukio’s throat parched within a second, silencing him. 

 

Kise smiled knowingly and leaned over Yukio. He held the back of his thigh and his calf and bent his leg at the knee, pushing towards Yukio’s chest.

 

“Ow,” Yukio said.

 

Kise stopped. 

 

“I can do this myself you know,” Yukio grumbled.

 

“It’s more fun to do it together!” Kise said.

 

That didn’t sound quite right, but he also wasn’t sure what to say to that. 

 

Kise held his leg there for a few seconds.  The stretching felt good but he didn’t think it was going to help. It wouldn’t hurt, though, so. 

 

Kise straightened out his leg and pushed back again.

 

Then he crooked the leg again and pushed it over the other, stretching his hip.

 

“Is this okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He repeated on the other side. 

 

They didn’t talk much other than that. Kise kept telling him to breath which apparently he wasn’t.  He became painfully aware of Kise staring intently at his back. This was so much less weird around everyone else when everyone else was stretching too. By themselves all Yukio could focus on was the fact that he was in a compromising position, and yea anyone could walk in at any time, but Kise was already here.

 

“Turn over,” Kise said. 

 

“What?” 

 

“You have to stretch fully.”

 

Yukio had no idea what made him do it. As soon as he was on his belly he felt his face burn and he regretted it. He considered getting up and calling this off, but would that be considered giving up which would make him seem weak? He cursed gender roles making him question how to present himself to the world. Kise placed his hand on his knee and another around his ankle and lifted gently.  He repeated on the other side.

 

Yukio felt hot murky emotions swirl inside him.

 

“I think I’m good. Thanks.” He flipped over. Kise was very far away. 

 

“Okay.”

 

“It was nice. Thank you.”

 

“No problem, Senpai.”

 

They didn’t look at each other. Yukio got up, the pain still present, but other things taking up his consciousness. 

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He headed towards the door. 

 

“See you tomorrow.” 

 

When Yukio turned back, Kise was nowhere to be found.

  
  
  


***

  
  


If things were awkward between Yukio and Kise, no one mentioned anything. And there wasn’t much time to dwell on it anyway. The tournament went alright. Yukio’s ankle (and knee, and thigh) became a little better and he could play some of the time but he had to be benched for the most part. This was highly disappointing. Almost more disappointing than the fact that they lost.  Maybe they would have lost even if Yukio played. But they would never know. 

 

Kise threw a big party after the tournament. Kise usually did. Everyone else liked this practice and Yukio was not surprised at the very least. He almost wasn’t going to go but Kobori looked at him pleadingly and then motioned to Moriyama who was excited about how many girls would be at the party. And some other random third years were making fun of how many shots Hayakawa could do (it wasn’t that many) and goading him to do more. There wasn’t much e could do to save the team from themselves but Kise said he had to step out and would he keep an eye on things while he was gone. Yukio couldn’t think of any good reason why Kise would have to leave his own party and why Kobori couldn't just watch the house but he found himself at Kise’s door, the music muffled from behind it, but thumping very aggressively. He was about to knock when the door opened and Kise grinned, face bright red and eyes a little distant. This Kise was a little scary to look at. Normally, Kise’s eyes were lasers, pointed, determined, calculated, and purposeful. Yukio had to wonder whether Kise was reacting to the team’s loss in an unhealthy way. He wasn’t their dad, he couldn’t tell the team what to do. He could only be a good role model and hope that they improved themselves. But at some point, as a team captain, he had to intervene, no matter how     little he liked to. 

 

Kise let him in. He stepped inside and the chaos was limited. At least upon first glance. Then he noticed the bathroom light on and door thrown open, and Kobori walking from it towards Moriyama, who was crying in a corner.

 

“What did you do?” Yukio glanced disapprovingly at Kise.

 

“It wasn’t me!” Kise whined.

 

“Is Hayakawa in there?”

 

Kise looked over his shoulder towards the bathroom.  “Yeah.”

 

“You have to go out now?” Yukio put great weight into his words, implying that he should not go out. “What do you need?”

 

“More alcohol.”

 

Yukio sent him a stern look. “It does not look like you need more.”

 

“Well, you need some!” Kise leaned into him, grinning and jutting his elbow into Yukio’s ribs. Yukio shrugged away and tried to set him up upright.

 

Kise’s eyes were shiny.  Yukio took a deep breath like he was preparing to dive underwater, then looked into them. 

 

“Did you trick me into coming here?”

 

Kise looked down.

 

Yukio’s eyes darted around the room. “Do you want me to tell everyone to leave?”

 

“No, they are just getting started!”

 

Yukio looked at the bathroom pointedly. 

 

“Well,” Kise started but trailed off. 

 

Yukio waited for a few moments in case Kise figured out what he wanted to say. “I’ll go look after Hayakawa.”

 

Kise nodded. “What about Moriyama?”

 

“He probably deserved it.”’

 

“Senpai!”

 

Yukio shook his head. “Okay, I’ll check on him after.” 

 

Kise smiled fondly at him and wobbled away. Yukio felt a beat of worry that Kise was a lot more drunk than he let on but Hayakawa was probably more drunk than he had ever been in his life so he went to the bathroom to see what he could do. 

 

It turned out Kobori mostly had it handled and he and Yukio lugged Hayakawa off the floor when he seemed done. He felt more than a prickle of annoyance at those random third years who were nowhere to be found though it wasn’t like he had been paying much attention to who it was. If someone could clue him in on that, he could. Well. He didn’t know. Teach them a lesson or something.

 

“Are you going home?” Yukio asked.

 

“I don’t think he should be alone.” Kobori looked down at their usually loud and boisterous friend. He was asleep with a frown on his face.

 

“Does Kise have a spare room?”

 

“I think all of these are spare rooms.” Kobori looked down the hall.

 

They found a spare room and put Hayakawa down as gentle as they could. Yukio found a trash can and put it on the ground below Hayakawa’s mouth. He put a water bottle on the bedside table. He left and closed the door.

 

“One down,” he told Kobori. Kobori nodded curtly.

 

Moriyama was taken care of almost as easily—mostly because Yukio’s role was just to kind of scare him into stopping crying or at least some semblance of normalcy. Yukio looked around, trying to figure out why the crowd hadn’t thinned. At what point would these parasites leave?!

 

Of course his gaze gravitated towards Kise. He stood pressed against the wall, looking a little green and dizzy, while people surrounded him, talking in low murmurs. The music was turned down a little though there were some drunk people who hadn’t gotten the mellow vibe. Yukio looked at them distastefully and he made his way to Kise. 

 

Kise noticed, perked up a little, and met him halfway.

 

“Still having a blast?” Yukio asked dryly.

 

Kise’s smile was taut. “I think we can send people home.”

 

Yukio squared his shoulders and looked about the room. “Yeah, finally.”

 

He made quick work of sending everyone home. Some people lingered—obviously not wanting to go back to their boring miserable lives, some of them still thinking they had a chance to snag some last minute hookup, and some were just genuinely out of the loop. Kobori and he called the necessary cabs and ushered the designated drivers’ and their broods out the door. Kobori wanted to stay so he could keep an eye on Hayakawa despite Yukio promising he would look after him. So Kobori slipped into bed beside Hayakawa and presumably fell asleep promptly. He sent Moriyama home with Nakamura so someone could keep an eye on him, since Nakamura wasn’t much of a drinker and had sobered up by this time of night, and Moriyama really couldn’t be trusted to do much of anything in most of his mental states, and definitely not this sad, drunk, heartbroken one. 

 

He looked around the mostly empty apartment. It was dark, the fuzzy golden with the fairy lights twinkling, though barely giving off enough light to see anything properly. Yukio supposed it was just enough to set some kind of “mood”—though Yukio was impervious to it since he had come sober into a drunk fest. And—he stood up and sighed—he was about to start cleaning up after everyone. 

 

Kise immediately protested. “You really don’t have to do that Senpai. I can take care of it tomorrow.”

 

“It’s alright. I’m sure you will be tired tomorrow, so I’ll just help out a little.”

 

Kise didn’t say anything which caused Yukio to glance at him in surprise. Kise was frozen, staring at Yukio with an empty cup dangling in his hand.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“No problem,” Yukio nodded and got back to cleaning. 

 

“Seriously.”

 

He stopped again, straightened up and looked at Kise. “It’s okay,” he said firmly. “It’s my job.”

 

Kise’s eyelids fluttered. “You are the best captain in the world.”

 

Yukio huffed out a brusque laugh. “I don’t know about that, but thank you,” he said sincerely.

 

Kise smiled softly. 

 

He finished cleaning what he could, tying up a huge trash bag and leaving it propped against a cabinet, hopefully easy for Kise to take out on the way out the door sometime tomorrow. Kise helped him, always on the other side of the room. He ducked away—maybe the mess spread past the living room. 

 

When he was done, Yukio washed his hands in the kitchen sink, glad that Kise had fancy good smelling hand soap along with his dish soap there and that nothing had happened to them during the party. He shook out his hands, went back to the living room and, dropped onto the couch with a sigh. 

 

It was almost time for him to head out.

 

Kise emerged and the words got caught in the back of his throat. Kise’s hair was a little damp with sweat and maybe drink. There was a sheen to his forehead. His eyelashes stuck together. He overall looked worn out. 

 

Kise dropped onto the couch next to him.

 

“Hi,” Kise said.

 

“Hello.”

 

They sat there in silence. Kise slid towards him slowly, their shoulders barely touching and Kise’s knee bony against Yukio’s thigh.

 

“Thank you for coming.” Kise was completely turned towards him on the couch.  Yukio glanced toward him. In the soft and warm but almost completely ineffective light, Kise’s features were shadows. He had to rely on memory alone to place the exact slope of his nose, the Kise leaned in.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’m sorry it wasn’t any fun for you.”

 

“I don’t have much fun at these things.” Kise looked hurt so Yukio explained, “it’s not your fault.”

 

“Still. Next time we’ll have fun.”

 

“Next time, I’ll make sure no third years go near Hayakawa,” Yukio growled. 

 

Kise shivered.

 

“You cold?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“It’s bed time anyway,” Yukio agreed. 

 

Kise offered him a hand.

 

Yukio looked at it then looked up at Kise.

 

“Walk me to bed?” The ghost of his familiar smirk passed over his face. 

 

Yukio took his hand and stood up. Kise laced their fingers together and tugged him to his bed. Yukio kept his mind blank, focusing only on the wide line of his shoulders, and the plane of his upper back. 

 

Kise opened the door and flopped down on his bed, fingers still clamped around Yukio’s hand. Yukio set his legs to keep his balance. He shook his hand but Kise wouldn’t let go.

 

“Okay. Do you need something else? Water?”

 

“I’m okay.”

 

“You should drink water.”

 

“I have water bottles around here somewhere.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Somewhere. It’s fine, don't worry.” He dropped Yukio’s hand which now hung uselessly at his side.

 

Kise jumped up and flung his shirt off and rustled around his closet.

 

“Do you want the light on?”

 

“It’s fine.” He shucked off his jeans, too, and pulled on shorts. Despite their locker room familiarity Yukio felt like it was wrong to glimpse all of this. This wasn’t the locker room after all. Context mattered. He fought against a shiver as Kise brushed past him and plopped into the bed again. He nestled into the covers. 

 

“Okay.” Yukio turned towards the door. “Good night, Kise.”

 

“Stay.” 

 

Yukio froze. 

 

Barely a beat passed. “Never mind.”

 

Yukio turned back and Kise was staring at him. It was too dark to read anything in his eyes.

 

“I mean—”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“What do you want?” Yukio asked softly.

 

“It’s fine.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I mean. I want you. To stay. Lie down.”

 

He had never seen Kise be this awkward and maybe he would have enjoyed it or at least marvelled at it a little more if he wasn’t also feeling so incredibly awkward.

 

“You can change into some of my clothes if you want.”

 

“Um, I’ll be fine.” He climbed into bed. His heart raced. 

 

He felt the bed dip as Kise’s turned towards him. Their noses were way too close. He could smell the party on him—his sweat, his drinks, and he could hear the clamour in his head. But it was so quiet now. 

 

“Thanks for staying.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

“I didn’t think I would stay.”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“Because you hate me.”

 

“I don’t hate you, come on.”

 

“You do.”

 

Yukio felt his heart catch. God, sometimes he could get so annoyed with Kise. But it wasn’t as though he didn’t—he loved his team.

 

“I love the team.”

 

“I know you love basketball, Yukio, we all know that.”

 

“Watch your tone,” Yukio warned. 

 

“Okay, Senpai.” Kise’s sarcasm send hot iron scorching through his veins. 

 

“I love our team! I love our boys.”

 

“Yeah. I get it.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Yukio waited for Kise to argue more. When he didn’t, Yukio felt something missing inside his chest.

 

“I don’t hate you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“That’s why I’m here. If I hated you, I wouldn’t be here.”

 

He felt and heard Kise shift again the sheets. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

He almost didn't hear Kise. 

 

“I don’t deserve you.”

 

Yukio hadn’t thought he heard properly. “You what?”

 

“If you want to go, you should go.”

 

“I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” Yukio blurted.

 

There was silence between them, heavy like a blizzard. Yukio knew he couldn’t take it back.   It wasn’t that he went around actively lying but there were some things that he knew he shouldn't say.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You out of anyone deserve the best out of this world. You deserve everything.” 

 

Yukio didn’t know what to do with that except not believe it. “Well, you too.”

 

“No. I am not a good person.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“I can’t say.”

 

“Well, you aren’t.”

 

“You don’t know, and I don’t want you to know.”

 

“Okay. Well, I’m here because I think you deserve good things.” He stumbled on his words. “Wait. Not that I’m the good—I mean—”

 

Kise’s chuckle was a breathy whisper and it silenced Yukio. 

 

“I just need you to know—”

 

“Look,” Yukio said, not sure if he could handle whatever Kise might have to say. “You don’t have to worry about anything. You are a good person.”

 

“You can just forget about this in the morning but I just need you to know that I like you.”

 

“Yeah, I like you, too.”

 

“I love you.”

 

Yukio didn’t say anything. His stupid, stupid heart fluttered a million miles a minute like a hummingbird’s wings and—Kise was drunk. 

 

“Kise, you’re drunk.”

 

Silence. “Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Yeah. I’m good. You can go now.”

 

Yukio felt a little hurt despite that. He knew he should go. He had to. He couldn't take this. He whipped out of bed and stalked to the door. His stupid heart, his stupid mouth—he was  _ hurt  _ and—”what, you want me to say it back?” His tone was biting but his heart felt like gnawed through. 

 

“Don’t say anything.  Don’t say it just to please me.”

 

Kise’s words pricked him like falling stalagtites but Yukio snorted dryly anyway and it hurt like sandpaper against his throat. “Like I do anything to please you.”

 

“Yeah, really. Good night.”

 

“Good night.” He closed the door to Kise’s room and thought, this is how it’s supposed to be. 

  
  
  


***

  
  
  


Kise ignored him for three days. He still responded to stupid memes in the group chat and to whatever other stuff everyone else was saying. Yukio never said much in there anyway unless he was reminding people about homework or sleeping or practice. However, Kise didn't make eye contact with him during practice, and didn’t visit him at lunch. Yukio wished he could be grateful for peace and quiet but it didn’t feel good when Kise was mad at him.

 

Kise had been drunk. Kise had said stuff he regretted. So why was he acting like Yukio hurt him? And on top of that, Kise drunk off his butt was the only way—well. It was the only way a lighthouse would ever focus on one measly boat. Or at least Yukio could pretend that happened.

 

He didn’t think he could out-petty Kise because no one could but he could play along for a little bit. His antics were thankfully cut short by Kobori. There was a reason why he entrusted him with the position of vice captain.

 

Kobori stopped him at the end of a particularly brutal practice—brutal because Kise alternated between having no chemistry with him at all, and going all out to beat him like he was playing an enemy team. Yukio knew he wasn’t the best on the court, he didn’t think that of himself. But there was a certain lack of dignity in being pummeled by Kise in front of everyone. Especially when he knew there was real heat behind it. 

 

“Kasamatsu.”

 

“Kobori.”

 

“I am talking to you as your vice captain and also as your friend.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Please fix what is going on with you and Kise—and don’t say that there’s nothing going on.”

 

“I wasn’t going to.”

 

“Yes you were.” Kobori’s eyes lit up with a barely-there smile. “I know you.”

 

“You do,” Yukio agreed with a slow sigh.

 

“You can do it.”

 

“I know that,” Yukio muttered.

 

“Really believe.”

 

“Okay!” Yukio looked up and Kobori’s kind eyes were too much. He shoved Kobori a little.

 

“You’ll be fine.”

 

“I know. Thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

Yukio followed him into the locker room, trying to figure out when this was going to happen. 

 

He didn’t have to wait for long, because Kise was waiting by the bike rack, kicking Yukio’s bike, with a little too much vigor.

 

“Hey!” Yukio snapped. “Stop that.”

 

Yukio thought he saw Kise’s shoulders momentarily hunch like he was startled, but he relaxed with a practiced ease. His calm countenance was completely fake, but Yukio did not feel victorious in the fact, or that he identified it. He walked up to him and squared his shoulders.

 

“What?” Kise asked, his hiss like a snake and his eyes cold like glass.

 

“What?” Yukio snapped back, then mentally rebuked himself. This was not the time for toddler fighting techniques. “Look, I’m your captain—”

 

“And you can’t tell me what to do.” Kise’s lip stiffened almost imperceptibly. 

 

Yukio gawked. “That is my one job!”

 

“Not off the court.” Kise inspected the grass behind Yukio coolly.

 

“Off court performance impacts on court performance.”

 

Kise didn’t reply immediately.

 

“Well?”

 

“Well what?”

 

“What are you going to do about it?”

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

“You know what it’s supposed to mean and don't curse at me!”

 

“You aren’t my dad.”

 

Yukio resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He sighed. If Kise was going to be a baby—well, he should have expected this. “No,” he said patiently like he was indeed talking to an elementary school kid, “and I’m not your older brother. I’m your captain. I’m your senpai.”

 

“Not anymore.”

 

He knew Kise was trying to hurt him. He knew it. Just because he knew it didn’t mean it hurt less.  “Fine, disown me,” he said, through the pinpricks of pain in his chest, like centipede footsteps crawling all over him. “But don’t fuck this up for the rest of the team because we can't sort out our differences.”

 

“Don’t curse at me.” He pronounced the words easily.

 

Yukio’s mouth twitched despite himself. “Okay. So. Are we okay now?”

 

“Fine, whatever.” Kise turned and was about to walk away. The moment of peace and camaraderie that he thought they had vanished in a flash. 

 

Yukio lunged and grabbed Kise’s by the wrist. “I mean it.” 

 

Kise stared at Yukio’s hand clasped around his wrist like he was caught in a bear trap and was inspecting the finer workings of the engineering. He shook Yukio away. “I won’t let it impact us on the court.”

 

Yukio took a step back. “Okay.”  It wasn’t the answer he was looking for but he didn’t know what else to say.

 

Kise looked at him expectantly, and Yukio looked down.

 

“Great. Thanks.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Yukio heard the rustle of footsteps as Kise walked away. He didn’t turn to watch him go. He turned to his bike and started unlocking it. 

 

“You are so stupid!”

 

Yukio turned to tell Kise to respect his elders.

 

“This is why girls don’t like you!”

 

Yukio wondered if he needed to dignify that with a response. He turned towards him and Kise stood facing him, stance wide and belligerent.

 

Yukio stood up tall. “Kise, please be an adult and talk to me if something is bothering you.”

 

“No.”

 

“If it’s about whatever you said to me at the party, we can forget about that and move on.”

 

Kise’s face darkened. Oh, no. That is not what he had intended.

 

“This is exactly what I mean.” Kise turned away. “And I thought I was the cruel one.”

 

“Well, you are being cruel, for blaming me for your mistakes.”

 

Kise glared at him. “Why would you assume I made a mistake? And you are the one being cruel for not taking my feelings seriously.”

 

“You were drunk.”

 

“That doesn’t change how I feel.”

 

“It literally alters your brain chemistry.”

 

“Well my brain chemistry says I still love you now!”

 

Yukio’s brain chemistry was  now apparently malfunctioning because he just stared with his eyes wide and mouth a little open.  

 

Kise looked, wow, flustered, honestly. Pink rose to his cheeks. “God you are such a—nerd? And you aren’t even good at science.”

 

“Hey,” Yukio chided lightly. He walked towards Kise.

 

“What?” Kise spat at him but Yukio looked into his eyes, hoping to find something other than true anger in there.

 

“Do you mean it?” He resisted the urge to put his hands around his wrists again.

 

“What.” Kise’s voice was flat but his eyes were fearful.

 

“That you love me.” Yukio tried to relax his face to not look scary—he didn’t know how he looked now, or on a regular basis. Kise looked at him warily so he knew it didn’t work. 

 

“Wow, you must not hear it enough, huh? Maybe that should tell you something.”

 

“Kise—Ryouta.”

 

Kise froze.

 

Yukio took a deep breath. “I never thought you would like me.”

 

“Okay, well. Mind blown.”

 

For some reason, Kise’s words didn’t cut him this time, no matter how bitingly he said them. He couldn’t stop the hopeful grin that broke out on his face. He was scared. Terrified. But—still. “I never thought I would have a chance with you.”

 

“I never thought I would have a chance with you.”

 

Yukio shook his head. He couldn’t believe that. “You could have anyone you want.”

 

“I don’t want anyone else.”

 

Yukio felt a burst of fondness for Kise’s stubborn streak. “Why?”

 

Kise’s eyes had a little more humor in them now. “What, do you want me to write a song about it?” 

 

“We could write a song together,” Yukio suggested.

 

Kise gaped. His grin was delighted and candy-sweet. “Oooh, songboy! My heart!”

 

“Stop,” Yukio said, his grin taking over his whole face as well.

 

“You scared me!” Kise whined, clinging to Yukio now.

 

Yukio flushed. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this.”

 

Kise barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

 

“Hey!”

 

Kise hugged him, and pressed his nose into his hair, practice-sweat and all. 

 

“It’s okay, I’m super into it.”

 

Yukio chuckled into his chest. “Yeah?”

 

“Hell, yeah.”

 

He leaned down, eyes closed,  and Yukio slammed his eyes shut and met him halfway. He didn’t stop grinning the whole time, and couldn’t help but think this was how it’s supposed to be. 

 

 


End file.
